


there she goes

by campholmes



Series: california summer [2]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Choking, F/F, more fluff lol, so much fluff so fluffy!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10105937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campholmes/pseuds/campholmes
Summary: Katya likes mornings. If she had to pick one moment where she would spend the rest of her life, she would pick a summer morning, just barely awake with Trixie soft and curved by her side.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hi all! i’m super excited to continue this fic :)). this section is a little less prose, but don’t expect too much in the dialogue/plot department since i literally don’t know how to write lolll. thank u all for the nice comments, u are all too kind and make my life a better place to live. The title of this fic is from there she goes, my beautiful world by nick cave & the bad seeds. in this fic: katya & trixie are both in their late 20's. other background info is in this section. feat. summer nights, summer mornings, and siberian brown bears!

It’s their first summer together in California. They have both lived in Los Angeles for years but never together. So it’s special. It’s special because of how they fell in love in separate apartments across the city a few summers ago, when they were far from knowing or imagining that they were stuck together forever.

It’s their first summer together in California in the right-side of the duplex, the one-floor home built in the ‘50’s that Katya insisted upon due to the green tile in the bathroom and the striped wallpaper in the kitchen and the slanted ceilings. Trixie hung the lace curtains in their bedroom and Katya went from garage sale to garage sale to pick the perfect quirky, mismatched furniture she could find that fit her tastes. Trixie doesn’t mind-- her tastes revolve around Katya’s smile. But their shower curtain is hot pink with a Barbie pattern, since Katya decided it matched perfectly with the green.

Now, Trixie sings at a bar downtown on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights and she gets paid for it, and there’s a proper stage and a good crowd of hipsters that tip her, and Katya comes every night that she can, when she’s not working on her latest project. And their ability to juggle Trixie’s music and makeup counter job, Katya’s yoga, and Katya’s art has been hard-won, and being able to balance it has helped Katya be more at peace with the world at large, and their shared Tuesday off is just for the two of them, together, and Katya thinks that it’s pretty damn cute that she and her girlfriend that she _lives with_ and has a _life with_ have a whole day for each other chosen out of the week. It seems pretty “adult,” and it’s made her a more positive person.

So they have an entire day, a _boring_ day at that, _Tuesday_ , to go to the beach or to lay in the backyard on the white lawn chairs and tan, or to hold hands and walk to get ice cream, or to go pet dogs. Whatever they want, and every Tuesday Katya falls more in love with Trixie at an exponential rate.

```

“Good morning, wake up!” Trixie whispers as she kisses Katya on the cheek. Katya knows that Trixie knows that she’s awake, and that she’s hard, and that last night they shook hands in the gray light of the bedroom and decided to have morning sex.

“I’m awake. I’m awake!” Katya shrieks as Trixie bounces across Katya’s body and twists the sheet to pull it off of her. Katya is only wearing an oversized t-shirt, and Trixie shifts right up against her, runs her hand across her right shoulder and down her breast, rolling her nipple between her fingers.  
Katya groans as Trixie pulls her shirt up and over her head, as she pushes Katya’s strong, tan arms back so she rests her head on the pillow, and sucks her entire dick into her mouth. Katya sucks in a sharp breath and she can feel the sweat coming out of her pores, and the dappled sunrise is making patterns across Trixie’s arched back as her tongue twists around Katya. Katya is so overheated and sensitive and she gives a prolonged groan, throws her head back when Trixie sits herself down on her dick, begins to bounce and Katya can feel her soft ass rub on her sunburnt thighs.

When Trixie is thinking about her own pleasure above Katya’s, which is often, her eyes slide half shut and her mouth hangs open, sometimes she bites her lip. And Katya can feel her skin sticking to Trixie’s and Trixie’s hair is in her mouth, and it tastes like shampoo and skin, and she wishes that Trixie would choke her. 

Trixie reads her mind, she feels her telepathically, she can touch Katya’s skin and feel her feelings, sometimes Trixie sits down next to Katya on the couch and instantly, without thinking grasps Katya’s thigh.

There are imprints of her fingers there, Katya can feel them.

She clasps her bony fingers around Trixie’s wrist and brings her hand to her neck where Trixie realizes what she wants, opens her eyes and squeezes. Katya can feel Trixie around her hot, can hear her heart beating in time with Trixie’s, can feel her blood pumping through her veins in her wrists where Trixie likes to rub her dry lips across. 

They cum together, Katya gasps the moment before her vision goes black as Trixie simultaneously clenches and releases her grip on Katya’s neck. Katya feels sticky and squished and so out of breath, and Trixie’s panting is delicate and beautiful.

```

And buying a house was easy but building a home was hard, and Katya won’t lie that some days she doesn’t want to get up, can’t get up. Or that sometimes she needs to be completely alone, murmuring to herself in the tub or finding herself sitting in the bottom of the closet, just thinking.

In these moments she thinks about Trixie, how Trixie loves her unconditionally, how she doesn’t deserve it. Then Trixie finds her under the clothes or slides into the water next to her and kisses her chest, down her legs, over her heart and brings her back down to earth.

```

On their fourth date, Trixie had invited Katya over to watch a movie at her place, and Katya _knew_ what that meant, of course, but she was nervous. She knew that the moment she walked in Trixie’s door her insides would turn liquid, and when she woke up that morning it was cloudy and smoggy out, and she felt like it would all go wrong. She knew it would all go wrong, god she was so _stupid_ to ever _imagine_ that Trixie would want her.

And when Trixie opened the door and blushed sweetly Katya’s insides melted.

```

Trixie had spent all week worrying, obviously. She had written a list of what she remembered from Katya’s likes and dislikes and her own next to it in shaky handwriting in the notebook she had reserved for her songs and her deepest thoughts, trying to make comparisons and connections. Katya was a performance artist. Trixie knew that, and she also knew that Katya was probably the type to lie on the floor in a puddle of cow’s blood and call it a representation of virginity.

So Trixie made salad and rented The Artist is Present, hoping that it would be something that Katya would like. Trixie wanted to hold Katya’s hands in her own, she had long, thin fingers even though she was shorter than Trixie and Trixie wanted to feel her fingerprints against her tongue. On their last date Katya’s short nails were a shimmery, dark red and so were her toes in her black jelly wedges, and they stood out against her pale skin. 

Katya insisted on helping Trixie set the table and their fingers brushed, and Trixie shivered and watched Katya’s blue veins that encircled her arms down to her fingers. Her skin was almost translucent and Trixie wanted to run her tongue from the back of her hand upwards towards her smooth shoulder, feel her veins contract underneath it.

It was still so humid and cloudy, the sun had not gone down but the small kitchen window the table was settled underneath was fogged up from their breath as they talked, joking loudly, and Katya was so stupid for worrying. Trixie _got her,_ she liked her, and it took the breath right out of her lungs.

Trixie had put out a pink and white checked tablecloth on the small wood table, and in the center there was a small vase with a single dandelion in it, and Katya was so charmed. Trixie was so sweet and gentle, and Katya was loud and short and disruptive, but Trixie blushed all through dinner and smiled so sweetly at Katya. 

Trixie giggled as she took Katya’s hands and led her to the couch, and Katya’s eyes boggled a little when she saw Trixie’s movie choice-- she was certain that nobody she had ever dated in the past had been so considerate of her, had tried so hard to make things fun for her and engage her.

And about twenty minutes in, Trixie’s hand was tracing patterns on Katya’s bare thigh, and Katya’s skin had broken into goosebumps. Katya sucked in a breath and lifted her shaking hand, set it gently on Trixie’s cheek. 

Trixie’s deep blue eyes were wide and dark, and she shuddered a soft breath before pressing her lips flat against Katya’s. They had never kissed before, in the three dates they had had, and Katya could feel her lips all down her, a soft shock that vibrated gently through her entire body and across her skin, Trixie’s hand travelling down her arm.

They made out on the couch forever, until they stopped to breathe deeply and Katya’s dick was digging into Trixie’s hip and Trixie’s wide eyes crinkled in joy when she pressed the heel of her palm hot against it, laughing softly as Katya groaned behind gritted teeth and her strong jaw that Trixie soon scraped her teeth over. 

And when Trixie was riding her she stuffed three fingers into her mouth and Katya came seconds later, Trixie following as Katya circled her clit with her calloused fingertips. And they lay there for a moment, Trixie half on top of Katya and their sweat mingling, breaths crossing, and Katya huffed out a laugh, soon tears were pouring out of their eyes as Katya wheezed and Trixie shrieked and giggled, and Katya’s finger traced Trixie’s eyebrow down her nose and tapped her chin, her skin so soft and damp, and her soft hair pulled up into a hasty bun, and her elbow digging into Katya’s ribcage.

```

And Trixie has never loved anyone before Katya, knew she loved her on their second date at the zoo when Katya, dressed in a red-and-white patterned peasant dress and red pom-poms on her headband, was fixated on the Siberian brown bears, nose pressed up against the glass, her foundation rubbing off on it. She was completely enchanted, eyes wide as the bear was looking right back at her, and Katya had turned to tell Trixie giddily that he was looking at her. Her eyes were light, icy blue and her smile bigger than Trixie had ever seen.

And Trixie fell in love, full stop.

Sometimes Trixie can look into Katya’s clear eyes and see her love for Trixie there, naked and open and surrendered. And if she’s close, she can see the pores on Katya’s cheeks and she can touch all of her moles. Sometimes she runs her fingers across her cheekbones and then under them, then along the seam of her lips. They’re usually chapped and sometimes have been bit until they bleed, and Trixie likes to push her finger between them so that Katya will bite it gently.

Trixie used to worry that they were burning so bright, so fast. But they only grew warmer, and they have been together for years and every day she loves Katya a different way. Saturday she might love how Katya’s toes curled against her leg when they woke up, Sunday she wants to bite the tip of Katya’s nose.

And Katya is there, and human, and physically Trixie can touch her. Trixie can hold her hand, Katya wants her to hold her hand, and Trixie can touch her soft skin and her dry skin, and she can kiss her cheek.

Every day, Katya surprises her, and loves her, and kisses her.

```

Trixie loves the summer nights like this, late with windows wide open to the darkness except for the cars driving by in faint _woosh_ -es, their lights flashing behind the window screen. The frogs from the pond down the block are croaking, and Katya is sitting on the couch painting her big toenail yellow and the rest red, wearing panties and an oversized, ancient t-shirt.

There’s a faint warm wind coming in and juttering the blinds, the tv is playing some reality show that Trixie isn’t paying any attention to, and the room is dim and yellow from the vintage lamp with the red shade that Katya brought from her old apartment. 

Trixie watches Katya and her thick, wavy, blonde hair and how she moves, gentle and quick, and how her thin hands twist and untwist the nail polish bottles. The bright yellows and reds stand out against her tan feet that Trixie knows are moisturized and soft. Katya is faintly humming a Russian song that Trixie recognizes from the playlists Katya plays in the shower, or when making dinner in their small white kitchen with the drawings Katya has done hung on the walls and the cupboards. She looks over at Trixie and grins.

“Can I eat you out really quick? Or is this a bad time…” she wheezes, legs kicking up into the air as she jumps from the couch and kneels in front of Trixie’s chair, smirking up at Trixie’s blown-out eyes. She pulls down Trixie’s old pink pajama boxers and licks up her quickly, and Trixie is already so wet, and it’s over in minutes but it feels like seconds, Katya thrusting her tongue up inside of her and gently rubbing her clit with practiced fingers. She knows what Trixie likes, knows what she needs, and none of her past girlfriends have taken the time to listen and learn the way that Katya did.

After Trixie cums and Katya lets her ride it out against her face, she pulls Trixie over to the couch where they lay side-by-side, the wind has died down and the frogs are louder, and Trixie gives Katya a quick handjob as the cars whiz by on the street, and they’re in love, Trixie knows that it means “I love you” when Katya whispers _“Trixie”_ into her mouth at her release. 

And after they clean up with tissues, they sit on opposite ends of the couch talking about anything and nothing, the bottoms of their feet touching gently. Trixie loves Katya’s quick hands and how they move when she speaks, how she gasps in remembering, and her enthusiasm in everything she has to say. She lets her eyes travel up the veins along Katya’s legs, lets her eyes trace the lines and curves in Katya’s face and the sharp corners of her elbows. 

She is beyond Trixie’s comprehension.

```

Katya likes mornings. If she had to pick one moment where she would spend the rest of her life, she would pick a summer morning, just barely awake with Trixie soft and curved by her side.

Katya likes to wake up sudden, jump out of bed, start the day. And she does, walks out of the french doors in their bedroom, another huge plus of the house, out onto the patio and the bright, blinding sunlight. She can hear birds chirping and the sun is blasting her in the face as she stumbles her fingers to pull out a cigarette. 

She sits in a lawn chair, Trixie is laying in bed just feet away, and Katya is reading one of Trixie’s books of lesbian poetry that’s maybe cisnormative but it’s beautiful and relevant and present anyway, and smoking, and she’s still in her pajamas under the umbrella, and soon Trixie will wake up and bring Katya some iced coffee like they do in the summer on Tuesdays. 

And the grass is so green and the sky is so blue, and Katya is from the east coast so she never knew that living like this every day would be so _wonderful_ but she suspects that maybe it has a little more to do with Trixie than with the weather.

And Trixie does come out in her pink tank-top and boxers and hands Katya her coffee, ice cubes clinking in the warm. Trixie’s boxers are riding up and showing her ass, and she really does look like Barbie sitting in the other lawn chair that she moves out of the shade of the umbrella into the sun.

“Good morning babe,” she says, yawning and rubbing her eyes, grabbing the sunscreen from the table next to Katya’s pack of cigarettes and popping the cap open. It sounds like summer.

“Good morning,” Katya smiles and keeps reading, sipping her coffee through a straw and feeling the warm concrete under her feet and Trixie’s eyes on her.

They will go downtown later today, go out for lunch and Trixie’s skin will be glistening from the sunscreen and they will hold hands as they walk in the street.

Katya is so in love.


End file.
